Canadian fiction -- 20th century; Detective and mystery stories
"Could you not request the jury to retire and hear this lady's story in
your chambers? You could then decide in a few minutes whether or not
it warranted an adjournment."
His Honor tapped his desk reflectively with a pencil.
The Assistant-District-Attorney was protesting. "Your Honor, whatever
may come of this matter, an impression is being created here highly
prejudicial to the case of the people..."
Corveth interrupted him: "I should be quite willing to have Mr. Hackett
present while this lady is telling her story, so that he may have the
fullest opportunity to meet the evidence she has to offer."
This more than anything Corveth had said, inclined the judge to believe
that he really had something up his sleeve. Moreover it was a generous
offer. The judicial face thawed a little on defendant's counsel. It
then turned to the jury.
"Gentlemen of the jury I will ask you to retire for a few minutes to
give me the opportunity of deciding whether this evidence is material
to the case."
The jury filed out in one direction, and his honor went the other, his
silken robe billowing behind him. The court-room buzzed with an
excited whispering: "What do you suppose is up?"
Corveth brought the veiled woman to the Judge's room through another
door. "Chambers" was simply a smallish room with a ceiling so lofty
that it gave the effect of a room stood up on the wrong end. A wide
flat-topped desk filled a great part of the floor space. His Honor,
brought down from the eminence of his dais was revealed as a smallish
man with a wise, humane face, much harassed as the result of over-work.
In the little room he looked much more human.
He waved the lady to a chair at his right hand. Hackett, with a
cynical expression, lounged in a chair by the window. Corveth was too
nervous to sit. As the lady seated herself she threw back her veil.
"Miss Broome!" exclaimed the judge in surprise. "You have already
testified in this case!" He looked reproachfully at Corveth. Corveth
signed to him to wait.
"Did you not tell all you know?" Judge Stockman demanded.
Pen slowly shook her head.
"How do you reconcile that with your conscience?"
"I answered all the questions," she said softly. "Mr. Corveth could
not ask me about these other matters, because he knew nothing of them."
"But you are acting in the defendant's interest, I assume. Surely his
Counsel had a right to know what was going on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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